


The First Female Quidditch Player

by GhostEz



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Debatable Hate Sex, Debatable Non-Con?, Dom/sub Undertones, F/F, Ginny is such a sub holy shit, Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE, Humiliation kink, I don't know if there are any other teams with women but there aren't anymore, Locker Room Sex, No verbal consent, Pansy plays Quidditch now, Semi-Public Sex, Strip Prank, canon can suck my dick, non-consensual stripping
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-25
Updated: 2020-09-25
Packaged: 2021-03-08 03:48:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,954
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26649283
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GhostEz/pseuds/GhostEz
Summary: Pansy Parkinson has somehow managed to be the first woman to play for a team that isn't the Holyhead Harpies, and Ginny intends to have her revenge
Relationships: Pansy Parkinson/Ginny Weasley
Kudos: 22





	The First Female Quidditch Player

Ginny Weasley could not have been the only one who considered killing Pansy Parkinson when she walked into the change room after the match. The Harpies had just lost mightily against the Catapults, and Pansy Parkinson certainly wasn’t going to help.

“Have you seen this?” Gwenog stormed onto the field where the rest of the team was stretching and threw down a copy of Seeker Weekly. Ginny looked up from where she was helping Valmai with crunches to see the bright red headline: FIRST FEMALE PLAYER IN QUIDDITCH HISTORY. Below that, a subtitle explained: Rising Star Pansy Parkinson Accepts Offer from All-Male Caerphilly Catapults. Most infuriatingly, Parkinson’s face smirked up at them from the glossy cover like she knew exactly who she was looking at. The response from the team was immediate and furious.

“The Catapults? What the hell?”

“I’m sorry, PARKINSON?”

“Gwenog, this is a shite joke.”

“It’s just because she’s pretty!”

“If this is a prank, I’m going to hex your face off, Jones”

“She didn’t even play in school!” Ginny added to the general furor. It was well-known that the Harpies were the only team that took female players. That Pansy-fucking-Parkinson had broken the gender barrier into the rest of the league was an insult beyond consideration. Gwenog Jones was the most respected female player in the last fifty years. Ginny didn’t like to overestimate herself, but at least she had fought against Voldemort when the time came. All the girls on the team had, in their own ways. That pureblood piece of shit had managed it, though. It had to be a political thing. A mistake. A prank.

It wasn’t, the Harpies discovered when Parkinson took the field against them in the first match of the season.

Chin high but hands in the air, Parkinson stepped into the change room where the rest of the Harpies were in moderate states of undress. 

“There are only two change rooms. I showed up in my robes, but I can’t well change out with the rest of my team and I don’t fancy going home reeking and covered in grass stains,” she explained. Her robes looked fine enough to Ginny, but she looked around at her remaining teammates. Valmai crossed her arms, Gwenog shook her head, and Angelina and Cho seemed to be ignoring Parkinson entirely. The two of them finished changing and walked away, brushing past without a word. Ginny absolutely did not want to share a change room with Parkinson. Really, this was something she should have though of before stealing an honor that everybody else in the room had been chasing for years. However, Ginny had been caught by a mob of fans on the way out, and thus was much farther behind in changing than everyone else. Valmai and Gwenog would be gone in five minutes, but she hadn’t even showered yet. Fuck.

“Sod off,” Ginny said. Gwenog chuckled, pulled on her shirt, and left. Parkinson crossed her arms and got a mulish look on her face. It was only two on one now, and Valmai was in the process of lacing up her trainers. Ginny was absolutely going to lose this.

“According to Section Five of the official UK Quidditch League Manual, that constitutes unlawful discrimination, so I don’t think I will. I was just asking to be nice,” Parkinson announced as she turned on her heel and stomped into a different row of lockers.

“Good luck,” said Valmai, patting her on the shoulder on the way out. Ginny was going to absolutely kill Pansy Parkinson, and she considered hexing her erstwhile teammates as part of the deal. Would serve them right for abandoning her. With a sigh, Ginny began to strip out of her filthy Quidditch robes. Best case scenario, Parkinson wanted to see her as little as she wanted to see Parkinson and the bitch would stay out of her way. Ginny heard the shower start. At least she was fast. Although, she hadn’t heard any locker noises. Realization dawned. Parkinson wouldn’t have a key for any of the lockers in here; this was the Harpies’ home field, and she was supposed to be in the other change room. 

Ginny Weasley hadn’t grown up with six brothers and not learned to recognize the perfect opportunity for a prank. 

Parkinson deserved it, anyway, with how bitchy she’d been. In spite of tradition, the Catapults had marched off the field after the win without shaking a single hand, Parkinson leading the charge and smirking. Well, Ginny was going to wipe the smirk right off her face. She cast a quick scourgify on herself—not pretty, but enough to get home without taking a shower—and pulled on her street clothes. She’d been fond of the muggle-clothes trend that had arisen since the war, so she had brought jeans, trainers, and her favorite green jumper to brave the autumn cold. For now, however, she abandoned her trainers and crept to where Parkinson had been changing. As expected, there was a neatly folded pile of street clothes, as well as her rumpled Quidditch robes. Ginny snatched them and scampered back to where her locker was, quickly throwing them inside. As the pile became unfolded, Ginny noticed a pair of dark grey lace knickers. On impulse, she grabbed them and tucked them into the front pocket of her jeans. Now, even when Parkinson got her clothes back, she would still be subject to the humiliation of not having any knickers. Ginny pointedly did not consider the fact that she would then have Parkinson’s knickers. She just walked back over and leaned against the wall that separated the showers from the rest of the locker room to see the result of her prank.

Luckily, Ginny didn’t have to wait long, because Parkinson was just as fast in the shower as she had been undressing. She plodded out of the showers, dark bob hanging wet around her face and wearing nothing but a towel.

“Weasley,” she sneered as she passed. By Ginny’s count, it would be four seconds before Parkinson discovered her clothes weren’t where she’d left them. 4… 3… 2…  
“WEASLEY!” Ginny started snickering as Parkinson came running out, clutching her towel to her body with a fair bit more desperation than she had a moment ago.

“What’s up, Parkinson? Lost?” she asked. Parkinson’s face had begun to color a very fun shade of salmon and her perfectly plucked brows had ascended nearly into her hairline.

“You know perfectly well what’s ‘up’. You stole my things. Fine. Very funny. Call out the rest of your team and you can all laugh, but after that, I would like to have my clothes back and be on my way.” Ginny had to hand it to her, Parkinson did a fairly impressive job of sounding like she was still in control, despite her white-knuckled grip on her towel.

“Team’s not here. Just you and me, Parkinson.” 

“I would still like to leave. You’ve already had your fun.” Ginny considered for a moment, another vicious idea entering her head as she remembered Parkinson’s “How to Stay Feminine in Male-Dominated Fields” article in Witch Weekly. She deserved a bit more embarrassment than she had gotten. With a Seeker’s reflexes and a Chaser’s strength, Ginny’s hand flicked out, and suddenly she was holding the towel. Parkinson stood in front of her, stark naked and blushing all the way down her chest. She had decent tits, and she didn’t make any effort to cover them, both of her hands gravitating instantly to the apex of her thighs

Ginny, the picture of casual success, recrossed her legs and began to laugh heartily. Weirdly, Parkinson’s eyes zeroed in on something at crotch level. Maybe she was planning on seducing Ginny into giving her clothes back? The thought made her laugh even louder. 

Parkinson stepped forward, face suddenly much calmer and more focused than it had been a second ago, close enough that she could feel the heat radiating off of her. Her hand moved towards the waistband of Ginny’s jeans, and she actually stopped laughing. Then, she snatched something from Ginny’s pocket and she stepped quickly away. Ginny could barely see grey fabric wadded up in her hand. Fuck. The knickers. Parkinson quirked an eyebrow.

“Knickers, Weasley? Got plans for these?” Ginny felt herself start to flush and lose control of the situation. 

“I know what you’re thinking, and it’s not—” and suddenly Parkinson was in her space again, her forearm pressing Ginny into the wall as she continued to consider the knickers in her hands.

“See, I think this is exactly what I think it is, Weasley. Empty locker room, naked prank, and you pocketed my knickers? I knew there had to be some other reason you were such a slut at Hogwarts. Trying to make up for something, hm?”

Ginny opened her mouth to protest and, with practiced ease, Parkinson shoved the knickers inside and closed it. Ginny bucked under her hand, trying to speak, to explain, to do anything but think about the increasing and uncomfortable wetness in her own knickers. Parkinson shoved her knee up between Ginny’s legs, and, with a level of frantic abandon that was simply embarrassing, Ginny began to press herself against it.

“Mhmm. Very convincing, especially with the way that you’re grinding against me. Good to know that you’re an absolutely desperate whore. So, here’s how this is going to go: you’re going to give me back my clothes, take all of yours off, give them to me, and then, if you make me cum well enough, I may not Vanish your clothes. If you cum at any point, I will Vanish your clothes immediately. Okay?” 

Ginny was pretty sure that she had handled worse than this before and competently, but there was something about the way Pansy was talking to her, the inescapable force of it, that was just melting her mind. So, instead of spitting out the knickers or fighting back or even continuing to try to argue, Ginny just nodded.   
“Perfect. Now, lead the way,” said Pansy, stepping back. Despite the fact that she was still naked, Ginny felt like the one on display. Something about the knickers in her mouth and her unexpected submission made her keep her eyes low, leading Pansy quietly to her locker and opening it. Pansy nodded and began to dress. Her street clothes turned out to be a polished-looking skirt suit in a deep plum. However, Pansy forewent the blouse underneath the sui and her bra, as well as her now soaked knickers, leaving her looking like a fantasy of a business woman. Ginny swallowed dryly. When finished, Pansy simply stared at her expectantly, and Ginny remembered the second half of the bargain. She stripped clumsily, getting briefly caught in her own jumper and struggling with the clasp of her bra. The weight of Pansy’s gaze was almost tangible, and she felt her nipples harden in response. After a second’s pause, Pansy nodded for her to go on, and soon Ginny was naked. Pansy gathered up her clothes from the floor and put them in the locker, closed but unlocked

There was a rush of shame and humiliation. She was naked with another woman’s knickers in her mouth, just because the woman had asked. Not to mention, she had just seen the other woman’s body and it was all flawless skin, lush curves, and gorgeous tits. In comparison, Ginny’s freckly, sticklike frame felt insignificant. Her hands moved to cover her own barely palm-sized tits and the thatch of hair at the crest of her thighs, but Pansy caught her wrists, eyes harsh.  
“Don’t you dare. I will take and spread pictures on top of Vanishing your clothes if you so much as think about covering up. I don’t think you deserve that right now,” she spat. Ginny nodded. When Pansy had moved, her jacket had come slightly more open, and Ginny’s mouth was watering at the sight. Pansy followed her line of sight and rolled her eyes. “I see you’re anxious to start. Fine,” she pulled the knickers out of Ginny’s mouth, now thoroughly soaked. “Don’t take off any of my clothes. Don’t kiss me. And try to impress me, if you can manage it.”

Ginny all but leapt forward. Pansy was sitting on the slim wooden bench, so Ginny kneeled in front of her. The heigh difference was enough that Ginny could easily reach any part of Pansy she wished, and so she quickly attached her mouth to Pansy’s neck, a frantic mess of teeth and tongue. A single flare of rebellion ignited in Ginny, and she took her time to leave a large, dark mark on the porcelain column of Pansy’s neck. Pansy threw her head back and threaded a hand into Ginny’s hair but otherwise gave no sign of interest in anything that was going on. Determined to provoke a reaction, Ginny started trailing kisses down her neck and across her chest. Pansy had done a single button on her jacket, which meant that her tits were slightly out of reach, and Ginny was certainly not rebellious enough to break one of the few rules Pansy had set. Instead, she kissed and licked up and down the inner slopes of Pansy’s breasts, pressing her face in between them and feeling the weight on either side. She sucked mark after mark into Pansy’s skin. She lavished her tits with attention. Finally, irritable, Pansy groaned and undid the button on her jacket, giving Ginny full access. She grinned into the skin of Pansy’s chest, covering her elation with another bite. Then, with single-minded focus, Ginny attacked Pansy’s nipples.

Ginny was less sexually experienced than anyone anticipated, having played up her relationships while at Hogwarts and with the near impossibility of having relationships amidst the media frenzy that was her divorce with Harry, but she was far from a virgin. She sucked Pansy’s nipple into her mouth and toyed with it with her tongue while her hand came up to tease the other to a peak. She had mastered the perfect rhythm of hands, tongue, and teeth, and before long even Pansy was forced to unleash a long moan. Ginny smiled and switched, laving the other nipple with her tongue and fingering the one she had just left. Pansy’s hand grew more intent in her hair, unmistakably an order to get a move on. Ginny lingered a moment longer than requested before finally moving on to her prize.  
She had to drop even lower on her knees, spreading them to either side, in order to be able to reach what was waiting for her under Pansy’s skirt. She felt her own sopping quim touch the cold tile of the locker room floor and briefly jolted, but then Pansy spread her legs wide and her skirt rode up. Ginny could see the wet spot on the back of the skirt that told her she had done a good job. She smiled wolfishly up at Pansy, and then began to slowly kiss inward from Pansy’s knee. In her mind, she would playfully kiss down the other leg next, as she had done before, but as she attempted to ghost over where Pansy wanted her, the hand in her hair was joined by another and she was pressed into place.

“Don’t toy with me, Weaslette. And don’t you dare forget who’s in charge here,” she hissed. The sharp pain of her scalp only made her wetter, and she ground into the tile for a moment. Pansy’s nails dug in, and she refocused. Pansy was soak, the smell of her intoxicating, and Ginny reached her tongue out for a preliminary lick. It was the same heady taste she was well familiar with, with the slightest hint of something new. Something Pansy. Ginny dove in, licking a wide-tongued stripe up her labia before focusing on her clit. The small, abortive gestures of Pansy’s hips told her that the woman wasn’t far off, and she got the sense that more teasing would only get her in trouble. A series of hard, fast licks followed by slow, dragging circles dragged a frantic keening sound from Pansy. Finally, Ginny stuck her tongue inside, reveling in the wet heat of her and fucking for all she was worth. The keening broke into a loud moan, a yell, something that half-sounded like ‘Ginny,’ and Pansy slumped against the wooden bench, catching her breath. Ginny sat back on her heels, feeling her own wetness and hoping she had done well enough to earn a reward. The two sat in nearly companionable silence for a moment before Pansy sat up.

“Decent work, Weasley. I suppose you are just as much of a slag as they say. Well, I suppose I much be on my way,” she said, standing and straightening her skirt before gathering the rest of the clothes from the locker.

“What?” said Ginny, sitting up suddenly. Pansy paused, part way through the beginning of apparating.

“I supposed you are right. Here.” Pansy handed Ginny a small card. It was her fucking business card, and it said ‘first female Quidditch player’ right on it. Ginny felt her old rage beginning to overwhelm her. Then, Pansy gave her a finger wave. “Do look me up sometime. You were decent amusement. Ta, darling.” And she apparated away.

Furious, Ginny stood to grab her clothes and get dressed. The locker was empty. That absolute cunt had taken her clothes! The only thing remaining in the metal box were a pair of soaking wet, dark grey knickers. Ginny flushed, cursed, grabbed the knickers, and apparated home wearing nothing more than what she had worn to eat out Pansy Parkinson.

**Author's Note:**

> God, I haven't written smut in forever, but I just couldn't get this idea out of my head. Might try to get back into writing one-offs. Let me know if you like this vibe and maybe I'll write more


End file.
